Chapter 18

Eleanor held the fine china to her nose and inhaled the warm, aromatic steam wafting from the floral tea. Mrs. Huxley could make tea out of anything, from flowers to leaves. Part of her garden was dedicated to tea, which was something of a hobby for the woman. She truly had a green thumb and often gifted others the fruits of her labors. From exotic plants in her conservatory to native English plants and flowers—she grew them all and excelled.

Mrs. Huxley had over a hundred books about plants, teas, and herbal remedies from Britain and other countries, and she had read each and every one of them at least twice. However, she never counted herself as an intelligent woman and preferred to pretend she was a little silly and not the wise woman she truly was. This made people take advantage of her, often believing she didn't know any better. Eleanor didn't understand how Mrs. Huxley put up with the behavior. Perhaps age and experience made her mellow and unbothered by the opinions of others.

She glanced at the jovial woman and smiled. If one squinted their eyes and tilted their head when they looked at her, they would think she looked like a flower. At least, that was what Eleanor thought. Mrs. Huxley's curly hair was the petals, and her round and often shiny face was the center of the flower. She was also wonderfully plump, which added to her adorable appearance and cheerful disposition.

"Do you like it, dear?" Mrs. Huxley asked. "It's a new blend. Adding honey for sweetness and perhaps a little lemon accentuates the floral notes. Milk and sugar would ruin the delicate flavors."

"It's lovely, Mrs. Huxley," Eleanor told her sincerely. "I enjoy trying all your different blends after breakfast. It's a ritual I have grown accustomed to." She sighed. "I'll miss this once I return home."

"Or you could just live here," Julia suggested. "I would enjoy the company when Mama disappears into her garden."

"I always invite you to join me, dear," her mother pointed out. "You simply refuse and give all sorts of excuses to avoid it. Gardening would do you some good."

Julia wrinkled her pert little nose. "I do not like gardening like you do, Mama," she replied. "I do not have the patience for it."

Her mother sighed. "You are rather impatient, dear," her mother agreed. "I hope you learn its worth before you are married. Men can be somewhat..."

"Difficult?" Eleanor offered. "Childish? Demanding? Irresponsible? Judgmental? Self-centered?"

Mrs. Huxley laughed. "All that and more," she said. "A good man will have better qualities and just a few bad traits, but not every man is good. It is my hope that you both marry outstanding men. Julia has made a good start with gaining Lord Egerton's attention."

Julia immediately blushed. "Hush, Mama," she begged. "It's still too early to say anything."

"But wouldn't it be nice if you girls were related by marriage?" Mrs. Huxley asked. "You would be sisters not only in heart but by marriage as well."

Eleanor and Julia looked at each other and smiled. "I would be your children's aunt by blood," said Eleanor.

"And I would be your children's aunt," said Julia. "I had hoped our children would marry each other to maintain a bond between our families, but this way is even better. Our children will be cousins. We would always have a link to each other, even in death."

"All the more reason to marry Lord Egerton," said Mrs. Huxley. "He seemed more than a little interested, if you ask me. He might just be besotted with you, dear. Do you not agree, Lady Eleanor?"

"Mama!" Julia cried, almost spilling her tea. "We shouldn't place Eleanor in the middle. That isn't fair."

"I do not mind because I will always tell the truth," Eleanor assured. "And I agree with your mother—my brother does appear besotted with you. I wonder why I didn't realize it before. I certainly noticed a subtle change between you, but I didn't know it would be this. Of course, I was initially surprised, but I sincerely believe you would make a perfect match. I only advise you to not let him get away with bad behavior. He can be rather overbearing at times, but you already know that. We have been friends for many years and have been around each other for much of that time."

"You girls are inseparable," Mrs. Huxley said, smiling dotingly. "I might as well have two daughters and perhaps a son one day once my daughter finally accepts a proposal."

"All in good time, Mama," said Julia. "Choosing the right man and getting married should not be rushed."

Eleanor agreed. She was willing to become a spinster just to avoid making the wrong choice. There was nothing worse to her than marrying the wrong man and living miserably.

"I suppose not, but you and Lady Eleanor are twenty-three," Mrs. Huxley pointed out. "You have been out for five years and still remain unmarried. Some people have begun to talk."

"People know we have refused proposals," said Julia, adding more tea to her cup. "We are not hard-pressed for suitors. It is simply that they are not suitable for us."

Eleanor wanted to correct that statement, but it was a tad embarrassing to talk about with someone other than her best friend or family. She didn't want to reveal that while she had received a few scattered proposals during the first year or two after coming out in society, they soon dwindled down to nothing. Men were attracted to her dowry and were likely willing to overlook that she wasn't the beauty that most expected. However, once they grew to know her, they promptly found her bookish ways and intelligence undesirable. Mrs. Huxley already likely knew all this, but it was still uncomfortable to discuss.

"Well, try to find a suitable gentleman before people start throwing the word spinster around," Julia's mother cautioned. "Once people say it enough with your name attached to it, the word never leaves you even after you get married."

Eleanor understood, but Julia frowned in confusion. "I do not understand," she said. "Once you're married, you're no longer a spinster. Why would your name still be associated with the word?"

"Because you'll forever be remembered as the woman who nearly didn't get married," Eleanor replied. "Mothers will frighten their young daughters with words like, ‘Do you want to be like that woman who almost couldn't find a husband?'"

"Well, that is certainly foolish," said Julia. "Being a spinster is not even the most horrible thing in the world. A terrible husband is far worse. Far, far worse."

Julia would hear no arguments from Eleanor about that. Unfortunately, her family were not good judges of suitable men because Lord Langston was not a good man, yet they favored him. Perhaps they might understand her concerns if she told them about their interaction on the balcony during the last ball. Eleanor thought about that for a moment and decided against it. Her brother and aunt would likely blame her for being outside alone and point out that the matter would never have happened if she had remained by their sides.

"It's always the girl's fault," she muttered.

"What was that, dear?" Mrs. Huxley asked.

"Nothing," Eleanor replied. "Just mumbling. Biscuits would not complement this tea, would they?" she asked, steering the conversation to safer waters. "Certainly not the usual kind."

"No, not the usual kind," Mrs. Huxley agreed. "I'm still finding confectionery and pastries to complement my teas. Each one has such a unique flavor that it can be rather tricky to pair with something. You're very good with flavors, dear. What do you think would go well with this floral tea?"

Food was a subject Eleanor could discuss all day long. Had she been a commoner, she certainly would have become a cook. Grant thought it was amusing, and her aunt left most of the weekly meal decisions to her. Perhaps Eleanor might venture into the kitchen in her own home and attempt to cook something. Aunt Helen would never allow her to touch a pot while under her care, although that didn't stop her from going into the kitchen to peek at what the cooks were doing and if they had anything new for her to try.

"Very thin biscuits with a subtle honey flavor," Eleanor decided. "Perhaps a little aniseed for earthiness. Not too much—it can be overpowering."

"Oh, that sounds lovely," Mrs. Huxley replied. "Is there such a biscuit?"

"Not as far as I know," said Eleanor. "We can discuss it with the cooks and have them experiment with a basic biscuit recipe. It must be thin, crisp, and easily melt in your mouth."

"All this talk about food is making me terribly peckish," Julia complained. "But I do not wish to ruin my appetite for our one o'clock tea. The housekeeper promised something special."

"She did, didn't she?" said Eleanor. "We should take a walk before then to work up an appetite, but we have the embroidery to do for the church. The vicar's wife said she would come by to collect everything at the end of the week."

They had attended church last week at Mrs. Huxley's insistence, only to be added to the list of women doing special acts of service for the community. The embroidery would be sold at the next church market, and the proceedings given to the less fortunate in the area. Eleanor didn't mind helping the needy, but she despised needlework. In hindsight, these activities gave her greater reason to remain with the Huxleys longer. She may have promised Grant that she would return home soon, but she couldn't imagine going to London and dealing with their pressure to see Lord Langston. Eleanor had no doubt in her mind that he would visit the house the moment he knew she had returned. Part of her often worried he would come to the Huxley's residence at Grant's insistence. She wouldn't put it past her brother to cook up a reason for Lord Langston to be in the area and have him call on her.

"Why did we ever agree to do all those embroideries?" Julia cried, slumping in her seat. "Mrs. Smith certainly has a silver tongue. She could convince the Pope to give up Catholicism if she wanted to. I cannot begin to tally the many things she has had me do, for which I blame you, Mama. You insist on going to that church when there are others in the area."

"Your father is friends with the vicar," Mrs. Huxley pointed out. "It would not look good for the family to attend another church, but I agree about the Pope," she added with a giggle. "Mrs. Smith once convinced your father to part with twenty-five pounds to renovate part of the church's roof."

Julia chuckled. "When was this? I cannot imagine Papa doing that. He is so particular about never exceeding our monthly budget. One would think we have dwindling coffers."

"You were quite young at the time, dear," her mother explained. "Your poor father was cornered during a visit. I think it was just after he inherited the Kent estate from an uncle. Everyone knew about it as news travels rather fast in this town."

Eleanor laughed. She also knew about Mr. Huxley's tendency to pinch pennies, although it was never to the extent that he skimped on necessities and some luxuries. He simply didn't like spending too much money because he wanted to leave something for his wife and daughter. Most of their estate would go to the next male heir in the family, so putting money aside would ensure a generous inheritance that no other family member could touch. Eleanor's father had done the same, although Grant had yet to release her inheritance to her. He was probably worried she would use it to run away and begin a life somewhere far away from him and Aunt Helen. She would be lying if she said she didn't think about it at least several times a week.

"Madam," the butler called from the doorway.

"Yes, Sterley?" Mrs. Huxley replied.

"You have visitors—a Lord Richard and His Grace, the Duke of Devonshire," the butler informed them. "May I show them in?"

Eleanor and Julia looked at each other and gasped simultaneously. The duke and his brother were at the house and wished to see them. The duke was here. Eleanor didn't know what to do with herself. Her body tingled with nerves and excitement to the point that she couldn't sit still. She slid to the edge of her seat and fiddled with the teapot with Julia joining her seconds later. They exchanged meaningful glances that spoke volumes as they needlessly straightened the tea service.

Mrs. Huxley glanced at them and tilted her head with an amused grin. "I take it you know these men?" she asked.

Julia paused for a moment and nodded. "Surely you recall the unfortunate argument about the duke at the picnic we shared with the Balfours?" she asked. "Eleanor was most upset about it."

"Oh, I see," Mrs. Huxley replied, briefly glancing at Eleanor with a pained look. "But who is Lord Richard? I suppose a friend of His Grace?"

"His brother," Julia replied.

"They came all the way here to call on us?" Mrs. Huxley asked. "Goodness me." She looked at Eleanor. "Is it appropriate if we invite them in, dear? I do not wish to cause any trouble for you. We can tell them we're not feeling well if you'd rather avoid the matter."

Eleanor smiled. Mrs. Huxley was always sensitive to one's needs. However, Eleanor wasn't going to allow her aunt and brother to interfere even when they were not there. She wanted to meet with the duke again to see if she still reacted the same around him and if being around each other produced the same feeling of ease and comfort as the last time. Many weeks had passed since the night of the ball, and much could have changed since then. Eleanor did acknowledge that the duke surely wouldn't have made a trip to the Huxleys' home unless he was interested, but Lord Richard was with him, and he had made it relatively clear that he liked Julia. Perhaps the duke had merely accompanied his brother to see Julia and didn't know Eleanor was there.

The very thought made her heart sink and land in her belly with a hard thud. Dread quickly consumed her happy feelings, making her less willing to see him. However, she couldn't deny Julia a suitor, even if Grant had also expressed his interest. It was up to Julia to decide who was the better man.

"Dear?" Mrs. Huxley pressed. "Should we send them away?"

"No, there is no need," Eleanor said with a forced smile. "We should invite them in."

Mrs. Huxley grinned. She appeared pleased with Eleanor's decision. "Wonderful!" she exclaimed and turned to the butler. "We will move to the drawing room, Sterley, so lead them there and bring a fresh pot of the usual tea, a plate of biscuits, and whatever else we have on hand. Tell the kitchen to make it a luxurious tea tray."

The butler bowed. "Yes, madam."

He left, and Mrs. Huxley turned to them. "Well, let's hurry and move to the drawing room and await our visitors. They must be handsome—you would have said otherwise."

"They're both handsome," Julia confirmed as they rose to their feet. "Should we rush ahead of them?"

"No, we should make an entrance," said Mrs. Huxley. "Besides, a woman never rushes. Men are the ones who should wait on us. It is a man's job to fawn and pay compliments, not a woman's. Another important lesson for your marriage one day is that a man is meant to love you while you pay him the respect he deserves as a husband. Follow this rule, and you'll never suffer from feelings of worthlessness and doubt."

"You're not supposed to love your husband?" Eleanor asked, genuinely confused.

"I didn't say that ,dear," said Mrs. Huxley. "You can love him, but it must never exceed his love for you, or he'll eventually take you for granted. A woman in love sometimes loses herself in her effort to please her husband."

They slowly made their way to the door, but Eleanor wanted to hang back because she needed to understand Mrs. Huxley's words. She had never heard this advice before. Aunt Helen taught Eleanor to always ensure her husband was happy, which she found a little unfair. Eleanor didn't see why a man just had to provide while the wife had to take care of the household, children, their reputation, and so much more. It was undoubtedly easier with servants, but the social responsibilities were stressful. Now, she had just heard advice that countered everything she had ever learned.

"Is a woman not supposed to do things to keep her husband happy?" asked Eleanor. "If she stops caring, will that not cause him to look for what he wants elsewhere?"

"Caring for your husband and constantly having to prove your worth to him are two different things," said Mrs. Huxley. "As women, we cannot help but give our all to the one we love, especially if we feel we should always prove ourselves. However, there's nothing for a woman to prove once she's married. She need only respect her husband and take care of her duties as a wife—nothing more. She is allowed a life beyond that of her husband and home. The husband should prove himself through affection and providing for his wife. Keep this balance, and you'll have a happy marriage."

Julia reached the door first, but they paused when they heard the men's voices outside the room.

"They're complimenting the home," said Julia, smiling. "They say you have superb taste, Mama."

Mrs. Huxley beamed. "I like them already. Let's give them a moment to reach the drawing room and settle inside."

Julia nodded and pressed her ear against the door while Eleanor continued to consider Mrs. Huxley's advice. It was just so strange, yet it made some sense. Men and women were different and required different things to be happy. Women craved love, and men wanted respect—she had noticed this throughout her life.

"Mrs. Huxley," she finally said after some thought. "If you do not mind me asking, how did you come by this advice?"

"The Good Book, dear," the older woman replied. "The Bible tells us that men should love their wives as Christ loved the Church and gave up His life for her. A woman should submit to her husband as the Body of Christ submits to Jesus. If you ask me, the husband has much to prove. Being a Christlike husband is not child's play."

Eleanor nodded. "I see."

Aunt Helen was a woman of faith, but not even she had taught Eleanor this part of married life. It was one of the reasons why Eleanor had not looked forward to marriage and insisted she needed to marry a worthy man, or she would rather be a spinster. To marry a man who didn't love her and having to live her life proving to him that he made the right choice seemed downright torturous. Eleanor made a mental note to ask Mrs. Huxley for the precise verse and discuss it with her aunt once she returned home. For now, she had to brace herself to meet the duke again. She didn't know what to expect.

"I think it's safe for us to walk out," said Mrs. Huxley. "Are we all presentable?"

They inspected each other and approved their attire and hair. Finally, they were ready to leave and see their visitors. Eleanor drew in a deep breath and released it slowly before she stepped through the door and toward the man who she couldn't seem to stop thinking about.